by James Otis
CHAPTER III.
THE VENTURE.
I could not believe Simon Kenton would dare to make the venture of whichhe had spoken, for of a verity it seemed no less than the killing ofone's self.
We knew beyond a peradventure that the Indians secreted in the thicketround about us were keeping sharp watch over the cabin, on the alert fora movement of such a kind, and there was not a single chance in ahundred that one of us could even show his head out of either window ordoor without being shot down.
That being the case, and there seemed no doubt about it, how might oneventure forth so far as where the poor captives were lashed to the treeslooking forward with almost certainty to all the terrible tortureswhich these brutes could devise?
Thinking over the matter after Simon Kenton had declared his purpose, Isaid to myself that he had spoken out of the fulness of his heart, andnot with a belief that he might carry his proposition into execution. Iargued, mentally, that his desire to aid the unfortunate creatures hadcaused him to believe the impossible might be accomplished; but after heshould have time to consider the matter thoroughly, he would realizethat he could effect nothing more than his own death.
After having said what he would do, Kenton paced to and fro, keepingsharp watch upon the thicket, and saying nothing.
Once I would have spoken concerning the time when Major Clarke's partymight be expected at Corn Island; but he motioned me away as if he hadno inclination for conversation.
I had promised myself not to look out in the direction where the unhappycaptives were to be seen; but it was as if their helplessnessfascinated me to such a degree that I could not keep my eyes from them.
I gazed at short intervals, but for no more than a few seconds at atime, and saw no change, save once when it appeared to me as if the manwas speaking earnestly to the boy.
I could readily fancy that the elder was trying to encourage the lad forthat terrible time of trial, and the tears overflowed my eyes as I grewfaint with horror while thinking of what the evening would bring forth.
There is no good reason why I should try to give the details of ourmovements or conversation during this wofully long day. We spoketogether but little, first because Simon Kenton was buried in his ownthoughts or plans, and secondly because my mother's grief had beenaroused by sight of the captives to such an extent that her sobs put anend to speech.
Twice did Kenton get a glimpse of a tuft of feathers in the underbrush,and both times he discharged his rifle; once bringing forth a shrillcry of pain, and again evidently missing his aim, which was by no meanssurprising under the circumstances.
Late in the afternoon mother cooked another meal, and we went throughthe form of eating as if from a sense of duty. It was but justice to ourbodies for us to do so, since no one could say when we might haveanother opportunity.
Then the shadows of evening began to lengthen, and I glanced at SimonKenton from time to time in order to learn how he might draw back afterhaving announced so positively that he should make an effort at aidingthe captives.
But he had no idea of drawing back, as I should have known had I beenacquainted with him longer.
During the latter part of the afternoon he surveyed the thicket in therear of the house at frequent intervals; partially opened the shuttertwo or three times to make certain it could be swung outwardnoiselessly, and, finally, threw off his hunting shirt lest the garmentshould hamper his movements.
"Are you indeed counting on the attempt?" I asked when he had thus puthimself in trim for wriggling through the thicket.
"I have already said so," he replied calmly.
"There is too much danger! You must not risk your life when the chancesare all against you!" I cried vehemently.
"It will be easier to go than stay here and listen to that fiendish orgywhich will begin before many hours have passed!"
"You can hope to do no more than share the poor fellow's fate!" Iexclaimed impatiently.
"There is a chance I shall pull through, and the game is well worth thecandle. I may not tell the story to you; but there are good reasons whyI, above all others, should risk my life in an effort to save others;or, to put it in other words, why I ought to die trying to help thosepoor fellows, rather than remain idle."
He spoke in such a solemn tone that I could not have argued furtheragainst his going, however much it pained me, and I gazed at him insilence, wondering what might be the meaning of those strange words.
Now that it appeared positive he would set forth, and equally certain hewould be killed, I began to realize what might be our condition after hehad left my mother and myself alone to defend the cabin against thepainted crew who thirsted for our blood.
It was not probable the poor woman and I could hold out many hours afterthe brave fellow departed, however good our courage or strong ourendurance. The Indians would speedily overpower us, and I knew full wellwhat the end must be unless I was so fortunate as to die fighting.
Therefore it was as if I was assisting in an attempt to take my ownlife, when I did as Simon Kenton bid.
"You are to stand by the window as I leap out," he said when theevening was nearly come, "and on the first flash of a redskin's rifleshoot at random if you see no target. The smoke will serve to partiallyhide my movements. Your mother is to take up her station at the frontdoor until she hears you fire, and then she'll shoot over my head assoon as possible. I'm countin' that you can keep the savages back tillI've gained a shelter in the thicket. After that the shutter is to bebarred quickly, and you will both stand on guard at the front door,unless some danger threatens from the rear. If you hear the cry of anowl repeated three times from any quarter, you can be certain I havesucceeded, an' there's no need of sayin' that you're to be on the alertfor my coming. It's possible I shall be able to get in here again. If Ifail in that, and yet remain free, you may be positive help will soonarrive to raise the siege."
He had crossed the room while speaking, and was now standing by the sideof the window through which he proposed to pass.
I stepped forward to press his hand, for I knew full well he would notlinger once everything was ready for the perilous venture.
It was as if he did not see me--perhaps it did not suit his mood to saygood-by. At all events he kept his face from me even after the shutterwas unbarred, and then, without turning his head, he whispered:
"Stand ready! Remember what I have said!"
Then, with a quick movement, he flung open the shutter and had leapedthrough almost before I realized his purpose. His swift bound served tobewilder me, and I stood gazing out, with my rifle raised, not realizingthe necessity of closing the opening.
It was mother who flung the shutter into place softly and replaced thebars, and I stood there like a stupid until the house was barricadedonce more, when I said stupidly:
"The savages didn't see him!"
"It is God's mercy, Louis," my mother replied devoutly. "Possibly he maybe permitted to rescue those poor creatures who must have suffered anhundred deaths already!"
"It can't be that he will succeed while so many keen eyes are close athand. It is only reasonable to suppose all the crew are near about thecaptives, therefore how may one man prevail against them?"
"If it be the Lord's will, there need be no counting the odds," andhaving said this, mother knelt by the side of the table, while I,somewhat recovered from my fear and bewilderment, went to the loopholein the door that I might keep the captives in view so far as thedarkness permitted.
It was not yet night, although the gloom of the forest was so dense thatone could not distinguish objects very far away.
Simon Kenton had ventured out at that time when the gray of twilightdistorts everything, causing even the most familiar features of thelandscape to appear weird, and in so doing he had shown much wisdom.
An hour later the Indians would have drawn closer to the cabin,suspecting we might make an attempt to escape under cover of darkness,and an hour earlier the light of day cut off any hope of getting
outunseen.
Calculating the time to a nicety, moving swiftly as but few could move,he had left the cabin without alarming the wary foe, and thus far hissuccess was so great as to astonish me.
I could yet barely distinguish the forms of the unhappy prisoners, and,moving to and fro near them like evil things, were shadow-like figureswhich I knew to be Indians.
As a matter of course it was impossible for me to see the faces of thesetwo over whom hovered a most cruel death; but I could well imagine theexpression of despair on their faces.
They could not fail to understand that it was worse than vain to hopeaid would come in the hour of their extremity, and yet I doubt not theytried to encourage themselves by saying it was possible a party of whitemen might pass that way before the horrible orgy should be begun.
While gazing through the loophole, my mother remaining on her kneespraying fervently, I said again and again to myself that Simon Kentoncould do nothing single-handed against that mob of murdering brutes. Infact, now he was outside the house all the chances were against my everseeing him again. It was hardly within the range of probability he couldsave his own life if he made even the slightest effort to rescue theprisoners.
The shadows of night gathered rapidly, and yet it seemed as if eachsecond was a full minute in length. I was in that agonizing frame ofmind where one is raised by hope and buried under despair at the sameinstant.
Although my ears were strained to catch the lightest sound, I heardnothing save the rustling of the foliage as it was stirred by thegentle night wind. If Simon Kenton was attempting to approach theprisoners, he must have made a detour through the thicket to avoid thesavages who undoubtedly kept close watch over the cabin lest weunfortunate ones should give them the slip.
After a time, and it was impossible for me to decide whether I hadremained on watch one hour or two, a tiny gleam of light could be seenin the direction where I knew the prisoners were stationed, and as itincreased in size I understood that the brutes were making ready fortheir horrible sport.
The flame grew brighter and brighter until I could distinguish the formsof the helpless ones, with dark figures flitting between my line ofvision and the fire, and I mentally joined my mother in her prayer forthe relief of those whom I believed were beyond all earthly aid.
As I knew the savages had done many times before, so they were about todo now--torture us at the same time they inflicted death on theirprisoners.
We were to be shown what would speedily be our own fate.
While I stood there helplessly watching the horrible preparations, acertain frenzy of rage took possession of me, and I no longer gave heedto anything save a desire to bring death upon some of that fiendish crewbefore they began the work of torture.
"I cannot stay here longer, mother!" I exclaimed suddenly. "If SimonKenton risks his life to aid those who are strangers to him, why shouldI not be as brave? Alone he cannot hope to effect a rescue, and willsurely perish. With one other to help him, that which now seemsimpossible may be compassed."
As I think of the scene now, the wonder is that my dear mother did notremind me of what would be her fate if both Kenton and I were captured;but the brave woman gave no heed to herself, nor to her love for me.
Looking up while still remaining on her knees, she said softly:
"If you believe it your duty, my son, go, and may the good God grantthat you come back to me alive!"
These were not exactly the kind of words best calculated to give a ladcourage, and I realized that by listening to her many seconds I shouldbecome cowardly. Even as I stood by her side my determination grewfainter; in five minutes more timorousness might overcome me.
"I will leave the cabin as he did, mother, and you shall stand at thedoor ready to give us entrance, if it so be we come back."
Mother rose quickly to her feet; kissed me fervently, and then, withoutdelay, as if understanding that it was not well to prolong the parting,began to unbar the shutter.
In a twinkling I had put on powder horn and pouch; looked well to myrifle, and was ready to follow Simon Kenton in his desperate venture.
The shutter was open. Not daring to look back, I sprang out, believingas I did so that the report of a rifle would be my death knell; but nosound came.
The savages, thinking we were securely caged, had gathered around theprisoners in readiness to begin the terrible work, and I was free torush on to my own doom.
While believing there was little chance I should succeed in saving myown life, I was not careless.
Moving onward stealthily; stopping at each yard of distance to learn ifone of the foe might be near at hand, I pressed forward in a circle,counting on coming within view of the prisoners at a point midwaybetween the cabin and that fork in the path which led to the riverside.
Each instant I expected to come upon Simon Kenton, and as the momentswent by I began to understand that if he heard me approaching from therear he might leap upon me, believing one of the savages was creepingupon him, and such realization caused me to hope it would be possible toavoid him.
It was a strange situation, this being equally afraid of friend and foe,and could have been in a certain degree avoided if I had but accompaniedthe young scout.
Nothing interfered with my progress, however, until I was arrived at thepoint for which I had been aiming, and saw full before me thepreparations for the torture.
Two fires had been built ten or twelve yards distant from the prisoners,evidently for purposes of illumination, and at the feet of theunfortunate ones was heaped a quantity of dry wood, which would bekindled into a flame when the first portion of the terrible work hadbeen concluded.
Now the savages were making ready for the dance around their victims,and I saw fourteen of the painted brutes, hideous in feathers, beads andgaudy coloring.
To describe that which followed immediately after I had a view of thescene, would be impossible. The fiends were alternately advancing towardthe prisoners, and retreating, moving with a certain measured step, andbrandishing weapons in the faces of the two who were helpless.
The lad seemed literally frozen with terror; but the man faced his cruelenemies as if defying them to wring a cry of pain from his compressedlips.
Perhaps five minutes passed while I thus remained motionless in thethicket within half a rifle-shot distance, and then one of the murderousbrutes approached the boy knife in hand.
I knew the poor lad was to be maimed in some manner. The same blindingrush of rage which had come upon me while I was in the cabin,overpowered all sense of danger.
Giving no heed to my own peril; thinking only to save the frightened ladfrom immediate pain, I fired point blank at the brute who would havedrawn the first blood, and when he fell, as though struck by lightning,a cry of triumph rang from my lips.
What followed I am unable to set down of my own knowledge, for I wasbecome like one in a fever of rage and desperation.
I set about re-charging my rifle without giving heed to the rush whichshould have followed the shot, and dimly, as if it was something inwhich I had no concern, I heard the report of another rifle; another crywhich seemed but the echo of my own.
Before my feverish brain had taken in all this as a fact, I was ready toshoot again, and never had I aimed with more deliberation. I feltcertain this second bullet of mine would find its target, and when itsped on its way I needed not to gaze at the be-feathered brute withinrange to know that he was dead or disabled.
The brute fell as though struck by lightning, and a cry of triumph rang from my lips.--Page 62. _On the Kentucky Frontier._]
Again came what was like the echo of my own gun, and I saw four ofthe villains on the ground, while the others had made for the nearestshelter, each seeking some tree trunk that would shelter his worthlessbody.
Now I realized that I had come up nearly opposite where Simon Kenton wasstationed, and he it was who had fired immediately after my rifle spoke.
Thus attacked on either hand, the savages must have beli
eved they werebeset by a large force, and their only desire was to shelter themselvesfrom the deadly fire.
While loading my rifle I looked for an instant at the boy. His eyes wereopened wide; his lips parted as if to cry out, and on his face was anexpression of mingled hope and doubt painful in its intensity.
Again I saw a target. Twenty paces away was one of the brutes leapingfrom tree to tree as if striving to gain the river, and him I stopped onthe instant.
Ten seconds later came the report of a rifle from the opposite side ofthe path, and I knew Simon Kenton had not wasted a bullet.
No less than six of the feathered brutes were out of the fight, and itwas only with difficulty that I repressed a cry of triumph, for I knewfull well the villains would not linger long against an unseen foe whoseaim was so deadly.
Twice more did I fire, and once Kenton's rifle rang out. Then I believedthe brutes had taken refuge in flight, for two passed within my line ofvision while I was reloading my weapon.
"Kenton!" I shouted, holding the rifle at my shoulder meanwhile, lest byraising my voice I might have brought the foe upon me, and before onecould have counted twenty the young scout was by my side.
"Is it indeed you, lad?" he asked as if overcome with astonishment.
"And why not? I have been able to take some part in the rescue?"
"_Some part_, lad? You have made it possible when I believed nothingmight be done. But for your attack, yonder poor fellows would even nowbe in agony, because I could not have fired without bringing the wholegang upon me. A shot from both sides was what caused them to believe wehad a large force."
"Let us cut those prisoners loose," I cried, waiting to hear no more,and eager to relieve them, from their misery.
"Wait," he whispered, clutching me by the arm. "The snakes may take itinto their heads to turn back, and it will be well if I quicken theirpace a bit. Stand here, and do not come out from cover till I get back."
He was off like a flash, and with no more noise, while I remained on thealert for an attack; but burning to set free the poor lad, who wasseeking here and there with his eyes to learn if those who had saved himfrom pain were yet near at hand.
Then the man spoke words of hope to the boy, as I could understand, bythe expression on both their faces, and I waited with finger on thetrigger of the rifle lest the savages should make one desperate effortto accomplish their cruel work.
Surely if any of the Indians were near at hand now, some attempt wouldbe made to kill the prisoners, and after waiting perhaps five minutes, Istepped boldly out within the rays of light.
Near at hand were four rifles, where they had been left against asapling while their owners took part in the dance of death, and I knewwe might add the prisoners, well armed, to our force.
The lad gave vent to a low cry of most intense joy as he saw me; but theman said quietly, as if it was quite natural I should be there:
"You came in good time. How many are with you?"
"Only one other, sir, and he is in pursuit of the savages," I replied,wielding my hunting knife to sever the bonds which held both prisonershelpless.
I had no more than given the poor fellows freedom, and while they stoodchafing their wrists to restore the circulation of blood, Simon Kentoncame up swiftly.
"It is well we get back to the cabin; the snakes have halted just underthe river bank, and it may be they will turn back to find out how manywe can muster. Come on!"
Stopping only sufficiently long to secure the rifles which were near athand, we four ran to the cabin, the door of which my mother held open;and once we were inside, the dear soul clasped me to her bosom as if Ihad come back from the dead, as indeed was very nearly the case.